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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28567512">Oh my rosemary</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SzeMal/pseuds/SzeMal'>SzeMal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Fluff and Smut, Birthday, Blood, Drunken Shenanigans, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover, Multi, Porco is a ginger, Self-made beach episode, Swearing, Time Skips, as he should be</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:48:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28567512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SzeMal/pseuds/SzeMal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In Latin, the name means ‘dew of the sea’. The symbol of love, fidelity, remembrance. Its springs are used at weddings, funerals, and military ceremonies.</p><p>For Reiner Braun on his birthday. Best wishes. Three times over.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover, Reiner Braun/Porco Galliard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. September 1st, 842, Liberio</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            A translation of

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231314">O mój rozmarynie</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SzeMal/pseuds/SzeMal">SzeMal</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>❧❧❧</p><p>Oh my rosemary, unfurl your petals,<br/>Oh my rosemary, unfurl your petals,<br/>I will go to the uhlan,<br/>To my dear companion,<br/>And I will confess.</p><p>Let us love and fight, just the two of us.<br/>Let us love and fight, just the two of us.<br/>An enemy will not find<br/>Our wounded bodies<br/>We bonded in hinding.</p><p>And when my fight comes to and end,<br/>And when my fight comes to and end,<br/>In spite of the pain,<br/>Shall I accept the kiss of death<br/>Just like when you kissed me.</p><p>❧❧❧</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘Happy birthday, Reiner!’</p><p>At the sound of the joyful voice, the boy closed his eyes. The excitement had awakened him earlier, but he preferred to pretend to be sleepy, as if afraid of offending his mother. Meanwhile she was carefully opening the door to his room, pushing it with her shoulder. Her hands were carrying a cake tray. Brownie, his favourite. He didn't have to look to know. He recognized the smell that had filled the house at four o'clock. Mom had been ahead of the sun again.</p><p>‘Wake up, my darling, you're nine already! You should get rid of nap time at this age!’</p><p>He rubbed his eyes for the sake of appearances. When he opened his eyelids, he noticed from a distance that the cake on top was glistening beautifully. Frosting. Brownie with frosting, his favouritest.</p><p>He sprang out of bed and ran into his mother, hugging her waist. Karina Braun, almost losing her balance, was in an uncomfortable position with her arms extended in front of her. She allowed her son to release the first burst of joy. Such reactions had not happened to him very often recently, after all. However, when Reiner started jumping in place, she made a small step, giving him a sign to release her.</p><p>‘Mom, mommy… Thank you! Thank you so super-duper-much! You are the best mom I know! I mean… the best mom in Liberio! In Marley! Or not, the best mom in the world!’ He shouted so that his mother, busy putting the brownie on the table, would surely hear him. She sighed with affection and shook her head helplessly.</p><p>‘The surprise does not end with this, sweetheart,’ she almost whispered to silence her frisky son, and stroked his blond hair. ‘I'll be back in half a minute, and you stand there obediently. Make a wish and don't devour all the cake when I'm not here, okay?’</p><p>She didn't hear the answer, but she didn't blame him. After all, it's not easy to talk when your mouth opens in awe.</p><p>Reiner rested his hands on the table and watched with fascination as the fire of the nine thin candles reflected on the glaze. It looked as if there were twice as many flames. It's almost as if he was already an adult. Will mom make such a cake when she is grown up? With a frosting too?</p><p>The touch of mother's hand on his arm broke him from his blissful reflections. There was something in the other hand. Something longer than wide, wrapped in gray paper and tied with a hemp string. The boy's golden eyes shone brighter than nine candles, and his hands were eager to tear the paper cover. Karina gave in to him, although she preferred him to eat it first. Will this excited child be able to swallow even a bite though…? She watched as little hands grasped the string impatiently and tugged at the paper until they finally touched the model of the warship with solemnity.</p><p>Reiner was unable to utter a word. The sparks in her eyes were flooded with a rising tear. He snuggled into his mother's skirt. As he looked up and gave Karina a broad, incomplete smile (his fourth upper left tooth had recently fell out) she found it worth working overtime since the beginning of the year.</p><p>‘If you become a warrior, you will have the same ship, but a big one. And if you're the best and obtain the power of the Titan, the big ship will become small like this again for you. Isn't that amazing, son?’</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>As far as Reiner is concerned, his wishes over the cake were usually very similar every year and related to the same things, although of course he did not reveal them to anyone. Not only because when spoken aloud they do not come true.</p><p>
  <em>I want my mother to be happy and not cry at night.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want to live with my mom and dad.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want to be a Marleyan.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want to be a warrior.</em>
</p><p>This time, however, as he stared at the metal model of the ship, he thought about something else exceptionally.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I want to go to the seaside.</em>
</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>‘U hamph a wompherphul mofher’, Bertholdt said, chewing on a piece of cake.</p><p>Reiner asked him to meet him after the military exercises. Bert knew perfectly well that it was about birthday, because he remembered about it. Even if it had fallen out of his mind, some sergeant with a dry face stood next to General Magath at the morning roll call, reminding with an equally dry voice of the birthdays of Zeke Jaeger and Reiner Braun, the seventeenth and ninth respectively. The Marleyan anthem was sung on the occasion, which young Hoover had secretly found to be at least strange. After all, the national anthem is not a birthday song. However, the exercises that day were probably a little easier than usual. Maybe it's a tribute to Reiner. He always gave the most of the whole group, yet without adequate results. All the candidates enjoyed the lighter training day, though Porco obviously had to give the younger of the birthday boys some malicious comment about getting old and kicking the daisies or something, and Annie glared at Reiner with an evil eye that gave everyone goosebumps.</p><p>But now the boys didn't have to worry about it. They celebrated the end of training by sitting by the river and devouring the brownie. Bertholdt licked the frosting off his fingers. Never had he eaten anything so delicious in his nearly eight years long life. He scolded himself in his mind for wishing for a second that instead of his ailing father, he had a mother who would bake such treats. You must not say such things, you must not even think of them silently, because it is selfish.</p><p>Moreover, she gives such amazing gifts…</p><p>‘It floats like a real one!’ Reiner was delighted when he set off the ship on the river; the current was not too strong, so he didn't have to be afraid of losing the toy. ‘My mom said that if I became a warrior, I would get the same ship, but a big one. I'll be a warrior, a titan and a ship captain! Anyway, I already came up with a name for it. How about the Titanic?’</p><p>‘A v-very nice name,’ Bertholdt muttered shyly. He was a bit overwhelmed by how much optimism and self-confidence Reiner suddenly had that day. The same Reiner, who was, to put it mildly, the eternal loser in the group of candidates. ‘And… will I… be allowed to sail with you… on this ship?’</p><p>‘Sure! You'll be the, uhm, that second captain. You're a good shooter, so you'll attack the enemies. I wonder if the island devils have ships.’</p><p>‘Dunno,’ Bertholdt mumbled as hesitantly and quietly as before. ‘I don't know if the island devils have ships… But I have… something… for you.’</p><p>‘Really?’ The birthday boy was so surprised that the river would almost have swept the ship away. Even more excited, he hurriedly threw the model to the ground, rather casually as if he had forgotten its value. ‘You got it with you? Show me, show me!’</p><p>Stunned by his friend's enthusiasm, Bert flushed. What did he say that for? It's nothing compared to what Reiner got from his mother. Besides, the best gift he could give him was the time spent together. He didn't regret any moment they shared.</p><p>‘It's not as pretty as your ship… And not edible. You probably won't like it, but—’</p><p>He didn't finish because Reiner had put a hand over his mouth. The silenced boy's forehead immediately beaded with sweat. With the tip of his tongue, he felt his friend's fingers sweet with frosting, and for some incomprehensible reason he blushed even more than before. Under the steady gaze of the golden eyes, he took a few crumpled and intertwined twigs with narrow needle-like leaves from his uniform pocket.</p><p>‘What's this?’ Reiner eyed the plant suspiciously, then leaned in and closed his eyes as he sniffed. It smelled strong, fresh, refreshing. But he still had no idea what the unknown herb might be. ‘What is this?’ He repeated with emphasis.</p><p>‘Vowzmurry—’</p><p>‘What?’</p><p>Only after lifting his eyelids did Reiner realise he was still blocking Bertholdt's mouth with his fingers. Embarrassed, he took his hand away and inadvertently wiped it on his pants, staining them with the remains of the frosting.</p><p>‘Wh-what?’</p><p>‘Rosemary,’ the younger boy replied in an undertone after taking a deep breath. He straightened the crumpled twigs a bit, which showed that they were braided into a circle that fit the circumference of a child's head. ‘My dad grows it at home. It smells nice. And you can make a wreath from it, for example. I wanted to make you the laurel one like those the emperors and winners wear in pictures in books, but it is nowhere to be found… I couldn't find it. But still… happy birthday.’</p><p>Reiner looked at Bert with utter amazement. He was so surprised by this small yet unusual gesture that he was speechless again, as in the morning when his mother gave him the gift. He felt strange that some fragrant stalks began to mean to him as much as an impressive replica of the Marley warship.</p><p>After a moment of silence and stillness, he bowed his head so that Bertholdt could solemnly crown him. Despite his younger age, Bert was taller and took advantage of it to smell the rosemary sprigs already stuck on the recipient's head. The dark green reflected beautifully against the background of fawn strands, and the interpenetrating smells of aromatic herb and friend's body, and the rush of emotions and thoughts (he saw Reiner's confused expression, if he did it on purpose, to laugh at his gift and smack him in the face with that stupid wisp, he's going to burn with shame) made him feel light-headed for a moment. Instinctively he took a step back, completely forgetting how the ground near the river comes down. Fortunately, Reiner saved him from losing his balance by surprisingly embracing him in a gesture of thanks.</p><p>‘Thanks… thanks, Bert. You're right, it smells good, this, uhm… mesmery. If the water here was clearer, like in the sea, I would see if I looked like those guys in books.’</p><p>Bertholdt was able to just swallow loudly and nod. He was sweating all over his uniform again. Of course, the hot August afternoon was taking its toll, but just a moment ago it wasn't so hot. Fortunately, he was released from Reiner's arms quite quickly, while he was still talking. Had they stayed like that a little longer, Bert would have probably started to steam. Despite the positive reaction to the gift, he still felt uncomfortable, not in a bad way, but somehow strange. His insides had been bouncing for a long time when they was assigned together to excercise in pairs, but during a training you're supposed to fight, not cuddle. A pity, since now he realised that it could be quite enjoyable—</p><p>‘—don't ya think?’</p><p>Bertholdt panicked. His mind drifted away so far that he had no idea what his colleague had just asked him about. He only managed to give the shy ‘mhm’.</p><p>Contrary to all his concerns, this was probably the answer Reiner expected from him. He grabbed the ship from the ground, inadvertently already a little muddy, adjusted the rosemary wreath with his free hand and smiled so broadly that the wind could whistle at the missing tooth.</p><p>‘See you tomorrow, Bertholdt. Thank you again, you are a great friend. And remember. When we become titans, the sea will be our bathtub and we're going to have fun with the real ships!’ He shouted triumphantly, then rushed home like an arrow, leaving only the trampled grass and the memory of the smell of rosemary behind him. Bertolt stood. The legs, which instinctively were more and more eager to follow Reiner everywhere, had to meekly come home.</p><p><em>Ah. So that's what he was talking about</em>, he thought. <em>Quite interesting.</em><br/>
But… He hadn't had time to tell him he still had traces of chocolate on his lips.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>That night, Reiner dreamed that he and Bertholdt were standing on the shoulders of a giant ape as they were watching together a large glowing orange diving into water, large, glowing and orange as well. He didn't know what was the meaning of that, but he liked it anyway. If this is how the sea looks like, it is gigantic. Enormous. Even for the monkey.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. September 1st, 849, Calaneth and farther east</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Don’t know if you know, but in the manga, Isayama made such a gimmick as sun rising in the west and setting in the east. In this fic we’re heading east. There doesn’t have to be any civilization there.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘Happy birthday, Reiner.’</p><p>A gentle whisper penetrated the depths of unconsciousness and reflected in the boy’s head with a gradually awakening echo. As the last vague repetitions died down, leaving him halfway between dream and</p><p>(please stay, without you I will get lost in there)</p><p>he felt a dry touch on his lips. Smooth and warm, taking the weight off his eyelids. Although he could, and even should get up, he would prefer to remain in this state of bliss.</p><p>‘Get up quickly, let’s go.’</p><p>Reiner knew what to do. His companion introduced him to the details of the first part of the mission after yesterday’s supper, which was in fact preparation. But at the time, Bertholdt’s behaviour seemed strange at least. The way he was holding his plate with the intact stew and stubbornly sticking a hunk of bread under his nose.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>‘Eat my portion, Reiner,’ he insisted.</p><p>At this moment, their entire table froze with the forks in the air. It was comprehensible. Bert rarely spoke during meals. And even less often he asked for anything in public.</p><p>‘What, you don’t like your supper? Indeed, this stew lacks a bit of salt, but it does the job with bread, no reason to fuss.’</p><p>‘N-no, it’s just… You need strength tomorrow. A lot of strength.’</p><p>Reiner made a soft laugh. He knew that the adjoining tables were also silent, the attention of the entire dining room was gradually focusing on the two of them, and the sight of Bertholdt sitting in front of him, looking around shyly and blushing more and more with every head turned towards them gave him some naughty satisfaction.</p><p>‘Why in the world do I need more strength than you? Tomorrow’s a day off.’</p><p>‘I… I’m not hungry,’ Bertholdt muttered after a long pause. Apparently, he run out of arguments before they even came into his head. Nevertheless, he continued to move the shuffling plate to the opposite edge of the table.</p><p>This unusual, yet completely unsophisticated situation was enough for most of the canteen to pause all previous chats. They were more bustling than usual, and relating to the upcoming farmers’ holiday, organized for another year in a row in the Calaneth district near the temporary location of the training corps. Even in instructor Shadis’ voice one could hear a sigh of relief as he announced at the afternoon gathering that the cadets would be dismissed from training for the next two days and be allowed to spend their time as they pleased at the festival—of course, all in moderation and with common sense, <em>cadets Braus and Springer, I’m talking to you!</em> Or, if someone was from outside Rose or its districts and had a family to visit, they were encouraged to do so. They did not have to worry about transportation. The horses were to be made available for free use after supper. And during that supper, the crowd of youth discussing lively, excited about celebrating and taking a rest from their military routine, fell silent to watch an engaging genre scene with elements of a farce performed by the second and third pride of the corps, Braun and Hoover. ‘You look scrawny today, Bertholdt.’ Reiner felt in the spotlight like a fish in water, and he did not hesitate to take advantage of it. He wondered when his companion would finally break and what he would do then. ‘You better not fool around and eat your daily ration.’ <em>Like a good boy you are</em>, he thought in his mind, touched by his confused face and the blush that spread over his sweat-moistened cheeks and crawled towards his ears.</p><p>‘Mind if I give you my portion?’ A braver girl from the nearest bench raised her voice and flipped her ashen hair, turning around to join the conversation. ‘You’ll eat if it’s from me, right, Reiner?’ A murmur of male chuckles filled the room. Surprisingly, it did not scare a few other cadettes who, encouraged by their leader’s self-confidence, also gained courage, and showed readiness to feed their friend nobly and selflessly. The amusement of everyone else intensified with each passing second. ‘You have to build these muscles out of something,’ the first girl said again, completely unaffected. From the lips of the jesters of the group, between the snorts of laughter, came indiscriminate jokes about what the not-so-generous girls really have an appetite for. They made the situation comic to stifle the sprouting jealousy of this packed son of a bitch who would probably have managed to fuck half of the 104<sup>th</sup> cadet corps girls without any effort, or maybe he had already done so. And now, without a trace of embarrassment, like some little fuckboy, he was answering them:</p><p>‘But dear girls, you losing your shape will hurt me much more. Eat well, let your curves stay in all the right places.’</p><p>Meanwhile, Bertholdt, who had started the embarrassing circle of adoration against his intentions, tried not to make the sweat on his red and embarrassed face begin to smoke.</p><p>‘Just eat it, please,’ he said in a choked whisper, staring down at the table and wanting to collapse into the ground. He felt too many eyes on him. Why are the eyes of the whole world on him at the worst moments? Whether they express mockery, contempt, hatred, or fear, what always makes them so overwhelming is their amount. Dozens, hundreds, thousands of pairs of dilated, disbelieving pupils that will not be covered by the eyelids even for a second. But he can make all the curtains fall. If he wants the crowd’s eyes to close, he must close his own first, hide for a while in the safe darkness, turn off his conscience, take a deep breath, then a swing and mindlessly… one, two, three… kick the gate—</p><p>He nearly jumped out of his skin as the canteen door banged open under the force of a heavy boot. After a while, a wave of relief eased his tense muscles when he realized that the sudden intrusion made everyone take their eyes off him. His unexpected saviour turned out to be Shadis.</p><p>‘Just because you’re done doesn’t mean you can squeal like a herd of swine, you bunch of underdone pork chops!’ The enraged instructor roared from the threshold. ‘It’s after eight, and the manoeuvring equipment check’s blown off! Anyone willing to perform this goddamn duty?!’</p><p>Bertholdt’s hand shot upward on an impulse. It was a chance given to game surrounded by greyhounds.</p><p>‘Aight! We have a volunteer at least, though these ears are so red you could paint the town with’em! Give those punks time off once and that’s what they do first! Drunk stocktaking, for fuck’s sake…! Any sober offerors, y’all?’</p><p>The boy swallowed. Accompanied by a hollow silence, he got up from the bench and walked towards Shadis. The instructor, seeing his cracking pace and fortunately unwobbly walk, calmed down a bit. And, thank the goddesses, he made no attempt to check Bertholdt’s sobriety with his nose. He might have become unpleasantly surprised and form a poor opinion of his hygiene.</p><p>‘Get there while you still standing upright. Move it, cadet!’</p><p>Bertholdt took the key from Shadis and nodded. As he was leaving the building, the ex-commander yelled out once again (this time asking if there was any wretch ready to take care of the horses), and the canteen was shaken with collective laughter (someone, most likely Eren, proposed Jean as a candidate). Bert, however, did not have time for longer eavesdropping, and ran straight to the arsenal shed.</p><p>He did what he intended to do there. Everything would have gone much smoother if he had not passed the stables on the way back to the barracks and had not come across Reiner’s admirers, the boldest one at supper. From her scent, he guessed she had been chosen to clean after the horses. Even though it was after dark, he could also read from her face that she was not particularly proud of this nomination. But that she would spit on his shirt with a furious scowl on her face, he could not foresee. If he had been wearing his uniform jacket, she would have hit in the corps crest. It could have been worse, he thought.</p><p>She was probably aiming at his face.</p><p>And although she missed this shot, with the words ‘you disgusting piece of shit’ hissed through her teeth, she managed to struck him deeply inside; right in a remote from consciousness, undefined, but vulnerable point where for years he has been carefully collecting and concealing the shattered remains of his dignity.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>They sneaked out of the camp under the cover of night.</p><p>Bert is smarter than he looks, Reiner thought. Lying down to sleep with their clothes on made it easier for them to evacuate the room quickly and quietly. They needed to just not wake anyone up while putting on the shoes. He wanted to believe that none of his colleagues was suffering from insomnia.</p><p>Also, swiping 3D maneuver gear, you freaking daredevil. When you took the key from Shadis, it was like laughing in his face, a scam of the century! What a master plan has been born in your skyscraping head? And why the hell did you make me eat all that damned stew?</p><p>They glided through the air and darkness as silently as a pair of migrating birds. They tried to fire the grapple hooks as far as possible to avoid any unnecessary noise. Although the lights were turned off in almost the entire district, the escapees were watched by a benevolent moon, which they often stared at during their numerous illegal sneaks outside the camp; this time, however, it was to illuminate a much longer route for them.</p><p>Reiner had to admit that since joining the corps, Bertholdt had grown to be even stronger and more agile at the same time, and the exercises in the air had sculpted his silhouette with an invisible, devilishly precise chisel. Keeping a little back and following his course, he admired friend’s long, shapely legs tied with belts on his pants. Dear moon, be so kind as to shine brighter. He wished that any light would help him see the outline of his companion’s muscular back, for it was obscured by some large bundle that, surprisingly, did not in any way slow down the speed of precise machinery and fit body’s duo.</p><p>They managed to slip through the Calaneth District unnoticed and climb the wall. They entered it away from the gates, on purpose and out of precaution, in case the garrison guard was not exceptionally drunk or asleep. Reiner took a deep breath and wiped his forehead. He had not watched the world from so high in a long time. He was staring at the night landscape of the deserted plains within the boundaries set by Rose and Maria. Here and there, he saw the titans, immobilized in various poses, as if frozen by the chill of the night and the moonlight. For once they posed no threat to them. Rose Maria, Rose Maria… Why, for some strange reason, the sound of these words resonates within him, bringing back distant, cloudy memories of a time when he could not have known them…?</p><p>The silhouette of Bertholdt, long and sharp as a spear, entered his vision blurred by the thoughts. He felt a tug at his wrists and the warmth of the body hugging him, the weight of Bert’s head, which, leaning towards him, rested in the hollow of his neck and right shoulder. Before he could get used to this unexpected closeness (strangely longed for after tedious gliding at a distance), he heard factual, precise, military-like instructions whispered in his ear in a voice so soft and calm that the resulting dissonance made it difficult to assimilate the information.</p><p>‘Like what…? Jump off the wall, transform in flight, you’re going to hook…? Break the armor on the legs… What for? Well, surely, I’ll be be lighter and faster.’ (damn, aren’t you a cunning one you when you take the lead) ‘Where should I run? Keep heading east, but this time I can avoid Maria’s settlements, forests and districts, okay. As little damage as possible, as little titans as possible, mhm… Wait, what? Are you telling me to cover the whole distance between Rose and Maria?’ (Rose Maria Rose Maria, what’s this all about, Rose Maria) ‘Wait… Even further? For fuck’s sake, have you lost your mind?! Where are you taking us, why ?!… Okay, okay, I trust you, I always do. I shall run till I have enough stamina; I understand. Then switch. So that’s why you gave me your supper. And I was hoping at least you did it selflessly.’ (apologise to me a little more, I like that nervous breathlessness in your voice) ‘Well, I’m relying on you, you’re in charge now, after all.’ (you can be more often, really) ‘Oh, Bert, one more thing.’</p><p>(please stay like this, I like that smell when your body is warm)</p><p>‘I just forgot to take the knife. Got something to transform?’</p><p>Yes, he did. The teeth with which he bit right into his mouth.</p><p>Reiner touched the metallic-salty trickle that erupted from his lower lip with his tongue. The small wound throbbed, pumping hot waves one after another to the rhythm of a faster heartbeat. The blood in his whole body boiled and rose where he wanted to be now touched with his tongue and stroked with his hands, where it brings the most pleasure. Over and over, he felt a current from his brain piercing through him, the impatient impulse to transform. He was like a filled cup on the verge of overflowing, yet he craved to be still saturated with that wild, wet, dirty kiss, wanted to mix the saliva with blood, and desired that Bertholdt, that fucking silent water, would run deeper and deeper and tear the rims of his lips like there’s no tomorrow.</p><p>Reiner balanced for a second on the edge of the wall, then threw himself down. Even while falling he was imagining that he had full control over gravity, that he had been speeding up on his own, and if he had wanted, he could have bounced off the wind and flown over the wall at any moment.</p><p>He ran his teeth over the open wound and smiled victoriously. A flash lit the night, a thunder pierced the silence. The district was still asleep.</p><p>In turn, he had not felt so awake in a long time.</p><p>The Armored Titan turned its empty eyes to the lunar shield, smashed the hard plates of his skin against the calves with a thud, and set off to race against the sun.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>At first Reiner wanted to count time and steps. He had lost track before reaching Wall Maria, which was already looming far behind him. Anyway… Was it important? Bertholdt seemed sincere and enthusiastic as he introduced the rudimentary plan. He must have thought it through well. If any progress is to be made, he shall put trust in Bertholdt for once. Now he was laying inside his giant hand. Perfectly settled in it, curled up like a kitten, he was sleeping safe and sound, even though the ground was shaking beneath his lair.</p><p>Why isn’t Annie with them? After all, she was the one who provided transport four years ago after M(I’ll never fucking forgive myself for it) died… She was lighter, more agile, and more durable over long distances than their clunky, ponderous titans, useful only for wreck. It is unlike Bert not to include Annie in operations, especially since he must have missed the princess locked up in the girls’ barrack most of the day. Or maybe she is already waiting for them somewhere, with the overpowered holder of the coordinate in her teeth. Maybe Zeke will come to their rescue. Good to see you, Commander Jaeger, imagine we haveve met a hothead in the army with a last name identical to yours. Please do not laugh, this is not a joke. And besides…</p><p>Guess it is today. Happy birthday…?</p><p>Wait a sec. Is it really about the mission? After all, Bert had told him to stay on course for east, and Marley is in the opposite direction of the island after all. He would not have made such a cardinal mistake. He would not have told him to wade for hours through vast wastelands (with, thankfully, an extremely small population of mindless titans), to scale the bloody walls…! Climbing Maria took a lot of effort and required the use of additional elongated and hardened nails. He managed to go up and down in such a way as not to hurt either himself or his companion, who overcame the obstacle with vertical maneuvers and now was resting in a cradle of bent fingers that shielded him from the scorching heat of the August sun high in the sky.</p><p>It was a silly thought but sleeping Bertholdt looked so sweet Reiner had to resist the urge to throw him into his titan mouth. He pushed the irrational idea away, and for the rest of the run he was alternately sucking his own tongue and lower lip which he had not regenerated intentionally; the constant, slight pain prolonged the state of consciousness. The several-hour sprint on over eight-meter prostheses combined with the incessant heat finally exhausted the shifter’s power resources. Gradually slowing down to jog, Reiner woke Bertholdt with the softest nudge of giant thumb. By the time his mind drifted away into soothing nothingness and the armored body crashed to the ground, he had time to think that he should have eaten more of this stew. So what if it was undersalted.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>He was awakened from a stone-heavy dreamless sleep by bright orange rays of sunlight that penetrated his eyelids, and the intense smells of smoke and roasted fish.</p><p>First he saw, dimly and faintly though, Bertholdt. He was moving his lips, but there was nothing to be heard. He was squatting by the fire, the flames of which licked something resembling a huge black bowl.</p><p>Reiner, experiencing the simultaneous limitation of two senses, rubbed his eyes first. There was some translucent, sticky mucus left in his hand, and the dried remains of it all over his face. What surprised him, however, was that the ground slipped from under his hands as he propped himself up. The slime-streaked fingers were covered with sand.</p><p>Agitated, he sprang his body up, this time successfully. Above the bowl was an even more astonishing, almost surreal sight. The expanses of dunes all around, and straight ahead, the glowing sun ball slowly rolling down from the ruddy sky towards the gilded mass of moving water, the waves of which splash against the gigantic, steaming skeleton.</p><p>Even if he insisted on disbelief, he was by the sea, and with each passing second he became more and more aware of it. He swallowed to moisten his throat, dried out by long sleep and the excess of sensations. This also allowed him to unclog his ears, which were immediately filled with pleasant sounds. From near—the crackle of fire, from far—the sound of water. From near—sizzling fish meat, from far—the cries of gulls. From near</p><p>‘Reiner, are you okay?’</p><p>Ah, that familiar, tenderly pathetic tone, like a whimpering dog.</p><p>‘Probably you are, since, as if nothing happened, you leave the Colossal and grill on the beach,’ Reiner stretched, trying to revive his numb limbs. ‘So, if you took your time off, maybe you will finally do me an honour and introduce the whole operation to me?’ He asked. Remembering a warrior’s priorities is a good way to cover the growing excitement of staying in a place as if taken out of his childhood dreams.</p><p>‘But… what operation?’ The surprise outweighed Bertholdt’s confusion for a moment and forced him to stop keeping an eye on the roasting fish. He turned to face his interlocutor; a face marked with red scars from turning into a titan. War paint.</p><p>‘Bert, don’t be kidding. You drive me here for hundreds, if not thousands of kilometers, for two walls, night and day, to the east coast of absolutely zero tactical value in terms of our mission. What’s more, without Annie, that’s very unkind of you, don’t you think? You’ll never win her affection this way.’</p><p>‘Reiner, it’s not…’</p><p>‘Besides, you had to get me here for a reason. You looked so incredibly determined it surprised me. And now we’re sitting on the edge of the world, with some nice vibes, but… Is that all? No new orders, no plans? Any army coming to help us? Neither Zeke nor Magath ready to evacuate us from here, be it by ship or with a b–bul—’</p><p>A bullet to the head, he was to say. The saliva that carried that bullet over the dry, almost woody tongue, however, got stuck in Reiner’s throat. He became so excited about his tirade that he completely ignored how thirsty he was after waking up from sleep on the cooling sand. Like in the desert.</p><p>Better not to have water in the desert than on the coast. Unlike hot air, the sea never stops waving at night. Regardless of the time, it is an endless mirage for a thirsty castaway, from which it is impossible to shake off. The longer he sees it, the more it tempts him, seeming to him clean, cool, and lively. Its sound blends smoothly with the pulsation of the boiling soup of thick blood in the temples, its movement neatly adjusts to the death torments of hands stretched out in desperation, its salt bitterly mingles with the taste of tears that run down the cheeks of a despairing shipwrecked man when he, against the dullness of his senses, realizes that his inert body is just being shrouded in a wet pall, his mouth, fractured and paralyzed in dilation, is being filled with corrosive poison, and yet he continues to plunge, step by step, into an ever deeper abyss of his own grave.</p><p>Suddenly there is a poke from the side, like the stabbing of a stick intended to rip the unfortunate man out of his mind. In the meantime, Bertholdt, who had already resigned from trying to speak and to explain himself, managed to take a water bag from his capacious luggage. Reiner grabbed the bag, which, though full to the brim, gurgled like an empty stomach, and eagerly sipped sweet water from it. It tasted like salvation. After an uninterrupted series of gurgles, he realised back.</p><p>‘Is that the only water we have?’</p><p>Bertholdt nodded and turned the fish over.</p><p>‘Water… Yes. I couldn’t have packed more without losing my mobility on the maneuvering equipment. Besides, although I regret it, we won’t be here for long,’ he said melancholy and turned his head towards the sea.</p><p>Oh. The last glass before death. He re-screwed the water bag. Then these fish are their last supper.</p><p>The calm that reigned on Bertholdt’s face under these circumstances had something disturbing about it.</p><p>‘Reiner… Can I ask you a question?’</p><p>Although the events of this day broke the routine and were quite surprising, some elements did not change. The sun rises and sets, the sea waves, though most likely nobody else on this island can see it, and Bertholdt asks for permission before asking for anything. He explains he could not say ‘no’. And he apologizes for apologizing.</p><p>‘Sure, go ahead.’</p><p>One question. Reiner was dying to ask a lot of them, but he figured it would be good now to listen to the escapade organiser in silence. Since it’s the only one, it must be one hell of a fucking important question. Maybe it will reveal the motive that Bert hides so hard under the mask of composure. What if this is a sign that he has already come to terms with each of the potential paths and the choice he will put in front of him will be just a formality, a signature under the death certificate?</p><p>Are we waiting for one or the other army to kill us, or will we take care of it ourselves? Are we drowning in the sea or jumping off a cliff? Or maybe we will hang ourselves in a nearby forest or give ourselves to random titans to eat? Anything else we want to do before saying goodbye? (I want to look one last time at your face while it isn’t twisted with pain yet)</p><p>‘… so you don’t want it’.</p><p>‘No, Bertholdt, wait, I want…! Sorry, I spaced out a little.’</p><p>‘More than a little, because “I want” is still not an answer whether you prefer herring or mackerel. And this is the third time I ask.’</p><p>Bert took one of the long, pointed sticks from the bowl and directed it towards the stunned companion.</p><p>‘Salmon then. Enjoy your meal. Eat while it’s warm and recharge your batteries for return.’</p><p>Return. Reiner had committed a lot of intellectual flips since awakening to bend reality to his personal fears, but it seemed too imprudent to interpret the return as suicide. Yes, Bertholdt would be capable of such morbid metaphors, but… Not with that face. Not with the smile of a proud nomad who just eats a fish caught, killed, scraped, gutted with his two hands, and finally baked on a fire he lit on his own.</p><p>‘If you continue to sulk, I’ll never come out with you anywhere outside the barracks again. Maybe Annie will want to go to our lake.’</p><p>Previously, he gave him a stick, now he stung him with a pin. The tasty-smelling fish painfully reminded Reiner that he had been running on energy reserves for several hours. He grunted something what sounded like “thanks,” and humbly accepted it from Bertholdt. He bit into the crunchy crust and the delicate, white-red flesh that crumbled under his teeth, with a slightly smoky aftertaste. Damn, he hadn’t eaten anything so good outside the walls before.</p><p>‘How did you even catch them?’ He asked, amazed at the multitude of his friend’s talents, the result of which was just satiating his hunger.</p><p>‘By the hands of the Colossal. I had evaporated my muscles before, so as not to boil the fish in the sea. Then you dip those bony hands in the water, and when you take them out, you have quite a shoal of fish in them.’</p><p>Bertholdt continued to respond with charming courtesy as he stared at the orange and pink sun setting. He looked as if he was waiting for something, or someone.</p><p>Looking at Bertholdt, Reiner noticed he was eating with his fingers, pulling small fleshy fibers out of the halved fish. It looked somehow more dignified than his mindless tearing of pieces straight from the stick with his teeth. So, he opened his already bitten and slightly falling apart salmon. There was something what looked like a pine twig laying in its belly. He pulled it out carefully. Though it was slightly crumpled, wilted, and damp, Reiner recognized it. The salmon fell from his trembling hand straight into the sand. The other held the plant with the utmost amazement.</p><p>‘Th—this has to be mesmery,’ he whispered beaming. ‘It’s today ...!’</p><p>‘I’m glad you remembered,’ Bertholdt moved to sit facing him. He had what looked like a whole bunch of freshly picked rosemary with him. He touched Reiner’s hand with the leaves, knocking out a spice that had already served its purpose. He began to move them towards the elbow, putting every light hair on his body upright. ‘It grows wild by the sea, so I figured… I’ll take you here to celebrate together again. Just the two of us, just like then.’</p><p>When the twig had swept the whole arm, Bert directed it to the friend’s face and caressed his cheeks, nose, and lips. Reiner shuddered. He smelled a familiar scent that brought back and revived old memories and childhood fascinations. Bertholdt leaning over him again, still towering over him, making his heart beating again. This time, however, in not so innocent way. There was something overwhelming about these tickles, as was the gaze fixed on him, sparkling just like a shimmering sea. The bloody marks on the face left the last of the steam and seemed to illuminate in the light of the approaching dusk. Parted lips whispered “happy birthday” and approached for the kiss. Reiner lunged at them, leapt from his seat to his knee, embraced Bertholdt’s back and pressed the back of his head. He realised it a bit late, but at that moment he was giving everything he got. It was his only mission.</p><p>Make their greedy mouths breathless.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>The night was nice, bright, and warm, much more pleasant than a hot day. The full moon drew the masses of the ocean to the island, and these drew two young men, lonely explorers of the wild side of paradise.</p><p>Taking off each other’s clothes, they headed for the alluring waves, encouraged in the back by the soft breeze blowing off the land. The cool dry sand falling under the feet, the damp one, remembering the footprints for a few seconds before the first wave washed them away, the frothy agitation of the following waves, when the intruder, like a torpedo, dared to break the resistance of the water… They felt it all and shouted with delight, laughed as the malicious tide flooded their faces and tried to push them ashore. They threw themselves on the sea, alternately splashing and flooding each other, screaming their heads off, unfettered by anyone’s presence or military drill. Only when they choked on the brine and the waves whipped their muscles properly did they let their bodies float on the moving water. It was a great change from the calm surface of the lake, stable and essentially dead, being no challenge for a swimmer. The ocean resonated much better with their youthful spirit, stifled every day by the weight of their duty. They felt free and safe in the turbulent, navy blue depths. Although the ocean merging with the sky attracted with its vastness, they remembered about the reference points—the collapsing colossal skeleton by the shore and a fire flickering in the distance.</p><p>They didn’t count the minutes passing, their only clock was the rhythm of their own bodies. When they felt that they had been sated with their bath for a while, they swam to the shore in unison. On the way to a blanket spread out on the sand, Bertholdt took out chilled bottles of beer buried by the shore, two of the four. It all was his equipment; he wrapped each glass in a layer of thick material so that it would not break or clink in the backpack. <em>That’s my boy</em>, Reiner thought.</p><p>‘Good, strong,’ he gasped as he drank the last of the salt in his mouth with the first sips of beer. ‘How did they sell you these? You’re only fourteen.’</p><p>‘And I don’t look that age,’ Bertholdt replied, and gave a short laugh. ‘If someone in the 104th wants to buy some booze, and you are busy, they immediately come to me.’</p><p>‘Yeah… You actually don’t.’ Reiner looked closely at his partner’s body. He had it in front of him almost in all its glory, only weakened by Bert’s stooped, hunched position. They had just come out of the water, and Reiner was a bit cold himself. He suggested that they sit closer to the fire. And closer to each other, by the way.</p><p>‘If you want, for your next birthday I’ll buy you vodka.’</p><p>‘Give me a break, Bert. My head is already buzzing without it. Your idea with the sea was brilliant, and I want to cuddle the hell out of you.’</p><p>‘I hope you will.’ Bertholdt smiled so charmingly that a warmth spread over Reiner’s body. It was more effective than the fire, which they had put sticks in before the night before so that the smoke would blow over their heads when they were sitting. Soon, in addition to the flames from the hearth and excitement, the alcohol from the quickly emptied bottles also heated them. All these factors merged into a feeling of bliss, the need for mutual touch, uninhibited caresses, usually exchanged discreetly under the covers so that the boys in the room would not notice. Eventually the lovers could remove their fingers from their pursed lips, release long-strangled soft sighs and louder groans. They rubbed against each other, their hands following the glow of flame tongues reflected on their bodies. They laid down on the blanket. From this perspective, sparks rise to heaven and, as they cool down, turn into stars.</p><p>Bertholdt came out with a nice surprise again. It turned out that, in addition to delicious beer, he had purchased and took with him a small carafe of olive oil. Shit, he really thought of everything. (remember when we used to steal butter from the kitchen?) Reiner, touched by his resourcefulness, let him take the initiative this time as well. Whatever position they took, this night was a gift to both of them.</p><p>Now Bertholdt was towering over him in the most pleasant sense. Lit on one side by fire and on the other by the moon. Reiner touched Bertholdt’s ribs. They used to stand out so that he could count them like rails in a fence. Although they still were slightly visible under the skin, they became covered with an impressive layer of muscle. Unnoticeably he is all glowed up. How is it possible that no one notices it, that everyone sees only the obvious? Does the height of the statue on the plinth occupy and intimidate the observers so much that they are unable to pay attention to the artistry of the sculpture? No boy in the shower, no girl after training, really no one ever told him</p><p>‘You are so beautiful,’ Reiner pulled Bertholdt to himself and kissed him on the neck. It was hot and wet and salty, like all his skin. It was hard to tell right now whether it was from sweat or from the seawater droplets. Anyway… Bertholdt always tastes like that. Like the sea. He would always remind him of it.</p><p>‘It wasn’t me who had their own harem lined up today,’ Bertholdt replied, returning the hug. He was just loving Reiner in a way none of these girls could even dream of. Even the guys would probably not think of dominating him, they probably preferred to bend in pleasure under the touch of strong hands, succumb to the charge of strong loins, and climax, being raised by muscular shoulders. Bertholdt couldn’t really blame them, he loved it himself. But he had the advantage that they would never be equal partners for Reiner. They will never get to know his friend from this unimaginable side, they will not be able to experience what he was experiencing right now. They won’t know how wonderfully warm and soft Reiner is when he voluntarily lowers his guard as he bares himself, shedding his armor. Against Bertholdt’s will, for a split second the insults of the girl, the one from the supper, echoed in his mind. He gritted his teeth and intensified the thrusts to drown out the vicious echo with his lover’s soothing groans. He struggled across the rough sea again until the anticipated wave of shivers overwhelmed their insatiable throbbing bodies.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>‘You really thought I was talking about a military mission back then? You silly. Have you forgotten your own birthday, or haven’t you figured out that I might just want to spend time on leave with you?’</p><p>‘Now, when I think about it, and you look at me like that, I want to bury myself in the sand with shame. You can only take my word for it that something wasn’t right for me since we went through Rose.’</p><p>‘What exactly?’</p><p>‘We left without Annie. I was tempted to ask who you are and if you locked Bertholdt in the horse box. We both know Annie has the best titan for running, that’s first. And second… I know you wouldn’t be able to leave her unless you tried to act some whiteknighting shit and save her from, uh, tragic death on a suicide mission or something.’</p><p>‘And what would we do with her later? Thanks for the ride, Annie, now go for a swim, preferably a few kilometers away…? She’d kick us so hard that you’d really prefer this suicide mission.’</p><p>‘Ugh, she would kick me. Somehow, she never raises her leg or arm against you. Remember when she made my both eyes shiner once because I had the misfortune to have them when I accidentally got in the shower, which she still hasn’t come out of?’</p><p>‘Yeah. And how she chipped your three teeth after you threw a frog in her cup of water. That time you deserved it.’</p><p>‘Even you against me…! Watch out or I’m going to tell on you in my report for Zeke.</p><p>‘Right, Zeke…’</p><p>‘Happy b-day, Mr. Monke. Come here, there’s a party.’</p><p>‘Mhm. Even two.’</p><p>‘Right, the farmers’ holiday.’</p><p>‘What a strange custom, farmers’ holiday in early August. Is the harvest fest not enough?’</p><p>‘Every additional opportunity to celebrate is good, Bertholdt.’</p><p>‘Every additional opportunity to break out of the walls is better, Reiner.’</p><p>‘There you go, the devil comes out of disguise. You know what? You were terrible, suddenly pulling me away from Sasha and saying some blah-there’s-a-mission-blah and I must refuse her. She was trying to get me to Calaneth, I was totally in it, and then you came in and I had to cut a talk about the fest because I’m not going. For no reason whatsoever. And are you surprised that I thought about it this way? Sasha was quite disappointed. She’ll probably go there with someone else and buy some delicious stuff for two weeks and won’t even leave a dry bun for me.’</p><p>‘As if Sasha was the first to share food with anyone. Here you have plenty of fish. In the morning I can make soup and roast some seaweed.’</p><p>‘In the morning… Not like I’m eager to come back, but have you included in your master plan when we are coming back? Are we coming back at all?’</p><p>‘If we leave before noon and pick up the pace a bit, we’ll be in Calaneth at night. Everyone’s going to sleep off and have a hangover, so no one should catch us.’</p><p>‘Good Bert. So we still have all night.’</p><p>‘All night for our mission.’</p><p>‘I beg, don’t laugh at me anymore. Ain’t no bunkers here, but it’s fucking awesome anyway.’</p><p>‘And I think that’s exactly why it’s fucking awesome, cause there ain’t no bunkers. And there’s no Annie… Just the two of us at the edge of paradise. It would be a pity to waste such an occasion.’</p><p>‘Yeah… I just remembered the day we got the official decision to send us to Paradis… Only then did I understand what they expected of us. Infiltration and diversion is not something that can be done in a few days or weeks. It occurred to me that I signed up for a few months, maybe even several years long stay, without parents, but in the company of devils. After coming home, I was outraged, I was shouting, I was kicking the furniture and walls, and smashed my plate… My mother tried to calm me down so that the neighbors would not hear, she asked what had happened, and all I could say was a constant scream: “I don’t I want to go to paradise, mom, I don’t want to go to paradise!!!”. Quite a story. Admittedly, as a punishment I didn’t get a supper then… Wait, what, did you just say fuck—</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>They made love on a blanket. They rubbed their sweaty bodies with the cooled ash from the hearth and rinsed them with seawater to cleanse themselves. They made love in the sea. They were drinking beer. They walked with torches through the forest. They made love in the forest. They had to go back down the beach because the torches had gone out. They plucked twigs from a rosemary bush, and Bertholdt made wreaths of them for their heads. The rosemary was almost as green as his eyes. They walked across the sand, staggering and laughing out loud like drunken gods. They were singing. They were scaring the gulls away. They peed in the sea. They made love on a blanket.</p><p>Two fugitives from paradise reached its borders and experienced moments there that they would probably call some of the most beautiful in their short, tormented lives. Although their deepest dream, which they were not afraid to admit, was to return to a place nostalgically called home, then, given geographic coordinates, they were as far away from it as possible on the island. And it was right there, with only the starry sky above them, where they found the warmth of the fire, the taste of a self-made meal, the closeness of a loved one. And a timid, unrealistic desire for eternity to look like this. They reveled in the heavenly fruits of freedom, picking by the handful, stealing them in reserve, so that when the time will come to return to the fallow land fenced off by walls, they may have a taste of sweetness on their tongue at least.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>At dawn, Bertholdt walked towards the colossal skeleton left in the shallows. Several algae had tangled in the collapsing cage of ribs, and curious fish swam to it willingly, hoping that there was some meat left on the bones. This had long since evaporated, but in its place, a white, brittle sediment appeared on the part of the skeleton still above the waves. Bertholdt scraped off some slates and took them to the beach, where he carefully wrapped them in a clean handkerchief and tossed it in his inventory on the way back. Then, as promised, he set about roasting the seaweed and cooking soup with fish and seawater. With a sprig of rosemary for flavor.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>‘We pissed in this water,’ Reiner laughed sarcastically as he scooped the hot broth into a found hermit crab shell. ‘Enjoy your meal.’</p><p>‘Everything that lives in the ocean has been pissing in this water for thousands of years,’ Bertholdt countered, taking the shell and his first sip. ‘There was almost nothing left in the water bag, and I wouldn’t cook soup with good beer.’</p><p>‘Okay, Bert, I know, just kidding. It’s good.’ Reiner quickly emptied the makeshift cup as confirmation of his praise. He knew he would miss those fresh, oily sea fish so much better than the bland and muddy carp and perch the Paradians feast on. He will think back to Bertholdt’s beautifully descaled salmon, he will imagine marinating herring and smoking mackerel together. Like, when burning his tastebuds with military ersatz, he sometimes fantasized about coffee. The real one he never had a chance to enjoy as a child.</p><p>He was feeling sorry for his friends stuck in undeserved ignorance. They will never know about wealth surrounding them. But why can’t they get even a crumb of a different, better world? Why not arouse their curiosity by tossing pieces of hope? He asked Bertholdt to pack some take-out food with him. He would rather give up on fish, because they are going to rot in no time, but few dried seaweeds should be fine.</p><p>‘Can you imagine what Sasha would look like if she ate this? It is crispy in the hands and expanding in the mouth. She would be stunned with amazement, and Connie with her! Or Armin, he would probably ask us for a sample and study it for hours. Maybe he would even guess what it is, I wouldn’t be surprised, he got a big brain. It would be kinda risky, so may be better to hand this to another cute blondie, or two… You know who I’m talking about, don’t you?’</p><p>‘No way.’ Bertholdt did not share his friend’s enthusiasm. ‘Even Annie can’t find out where we’ve been, or we’re just going to get in trouble. Anyway… Don’t get too familiar with them. Don’t give gifts to people you have to…’ He hesitated and lowered his voice. (don’t get too familiar, <em>you disgusting piece of shit</em>) ‘K—kill.’</p><p>After slurping all the soup and chewing the seaweed—crispy in their hands, but expanding in their mouths, the boys dug up a large amount of ash from the fire, rubbed it in their skin and went together one last time towards the sea to rinse their clothes and themselves. Reiner’s clothing particularly needed to be refreshed, for it was all stiff with, he realised, dried saliva of a Titan. Dripping, tight-fitting, heavy shirts and trousers were supposed to toughen them up and, in a way, motivate them not to prolong their stay. Dressed like that, they grabbed their hands and plunged into the water, wanting to feel and remember its movement, coldness, and saltiness. A quick kiss to remember—quite rough because of Reiner’s adolescent stubble—and they could put on their shoes and do a cleaning up, which luckily did not have to resemble covering tracks in term of thoroughness. It was enough to put out the fire, wrap the blanket and get rid of the two beer bottles. The previous ones which had been emptied before, had long been carried away by the waves, and the seagulls will certainly deal with the remains of the fish quickly. Bertholdt, shivering with cold, reached for the black bowl in which he prepared meals to draw water from the sea into it and pour over the dying fire. Only then did Reiner, constantly slightly distracted by the excess of sensations, noticed what had served as a pot all the time.</p><p>‘What exactly is this? Where did you get it? You probably didn’t fit it into your backpack.’</p><p>‘It may sound bad, but… It’s a turtle shell.’</p><p>Reiner felt a painful pressure in his chest.</p><p>‘Don’t say you killed the turtle to… Maybe you ate it while I was asleep?’</p><p>‘I didn’t. I found it on the beach, and so it was with rosemary. And the hermit’s shell.’</p><p>Reiner looked unconvinced. He did not know if Bertholdt was making it up, it was impossible to read it in his face. He also had no idea what was the strange unease that flowed from his heart to his brain and numbed his limbs.</p><p>‘It was already dead,’ Bertholdt continued, his voice mechanically indifferent, but with a hint of irritation. ‘It was enough to separate the back from the plastron with a stone and take out the bones. There would be nothing to eat of it. The seagulls pecked up everything. The skeleton was left dry.’</p><p>A quick glance towards the shore. What remained of the imposing colossal skeleton was a collapsing bridge of ribs as thin as fishbones.</p><p>‘You could have killed it,’ Reiner muttered, staring blankly at the large, charred carapace. The longer he stared at the rounded angles of scutes, the more he felt the heavy, cold shirt sticking to his body, enveloping him in a piercing cold.</p><p>‘Calm down, Reiner. I told you he was already lying. Dead. On the shore.’</p><p>Suddenly he saw a vision of meat; rotting, oozing ptomaine, and finally drying on the bones. Whirling larvae digging through empty eye sockets. Nausea shook him.</p><p>‘And what… what if you killed?’ He whispered.</p><p>‘And just so you know I killed! I killed several hundred thousand people… I will kill two, three, ten, a hundred times as many!…’ Bertholdt lost his patience. It did not happen often, so this sudden outburst scared Reiner even more. He opened his eyes wide to keep from shedding tears. Bertholdt did not see it. He was not looking at him. He was shouting at the ocean. As if he was afraid too.</p><p>‘And you were killing and you will be killing with me. You don’t remind me of every man I have crushed with my foot. Or with a ceiling I collapsed or a stone I kicked. You don’t remind me of the fish which I have cut the heads off and torn the entrails out so that we could eat. So…’ his trembling voice began to break. ‘Don’t remind me of those who died so that we may live. And don’t remind me of that turtle. Especially since it had that luck I didn’t kill it.’</p><p>Reiner nodded impassively, but something like a switch in his mind did not want to move the other way so easily. Before the darkness covered his head again, he felt a thump that snapped his breath from his lungs. Bertholdt splashed the water from the shell, not into the fire, but right on him. The shell itself was respectfully placed with its back up, though he probably wanted to throw it with all his might. Then he covered the fire with a handful of sand.</p><p>He gave Reiner a hand to make him stand up. He hurriedly rolled up the blanket and stuffed it into his backpack. When it comes to beer bottles, He could just throw them into the water, like the previous ones. Alternatively, if he still wanted to vent the aggression, smash them against a stone. Instead, he took two sprigs of rosemary, buried them in the dying, sluggishly smouldering ember, and threw one inside each of the bottles, which he closed tightly with ceramic corks attached to them on a wire. Burning twigs filled the glass with smoke. Bertholdt handed one of those wordless messages in the bottle to Reiner and counted to three. At “three” they threw them into the ocean waves. A small gesture made in sync with Bert lifted the boy’s spirit a little. Nevertheless, the ritual of saying goodbye to the sea was accomplished. It was already long after dawn. Time to go back.</p><p>He wanted to kiss him like then. Bite into his lips to apologise, ignite an invigorating spark in him. He realised, however, that Bertholdt had a knife with him all the time (he had to kill those fish somehow) and did not need help with the transformation, so he humbly walked away. It surprised him that instead of cutting the tip of his finger (as he did when he was a child still afraid of hurting himself) or the inside of his hand, he ran the blade across his throat and did not make even a short scream. Apparently he had cut the trachea. A gush of blood, a quick flash, and what was more of an implosion than an explosion. Within seconds, the Colossal Titan stood before him, mouth wide open in anticipation.</p><p>That was the only way he could carry him long distances. An alternative solution would result in severe burns, comparable to the effect of lying on a hot pan and thus destroying the ostensibly better comfort of transport. Reiner sighed and settled himself on the slippery tongue that pressed him against the hard palate. They had to repeat the pattern in reverse order: Bertholdt carries them until he burs out. Then Reiner runs all the way to Maria, climbs over it, runs to Rose, (Maria Rose, Maria Rose, this order doesn’t sound so pretty anymore) and then, when it gets dark, they come over the wall on both sides on maneuvering gear and politely, unnoticed by anyone, they will go to the barracks and burrow in the sheets like clams in the sand, waiting for a wake-up call. With it everything should be back to normal.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>He woke up lying on the Wall Maria. Bertholdt went about a few hundred percent above expected. His face was deadly thin. Bloody red scars scarred the dimples under the eyes and the hollow cheeks.</p><p>‘Idiot,’ Reiner muttered. ‘Give me the knife.’</p><p>He did not want to kiss him while he was in such devastated state. He did not want to reward him for destroying himself for him in the name of some far-fetched mercifulness.</p><p>He ran away with the blade for several dozen meters. Even from the height of the wall, there was no sight on the horizon where he had left his Titan’s empty armor the day before. Maybe the mindless titans found his smoking corpse and devoured it like gulls. Maybe Bertholdt turned them to ashes.</p><p>Somewhere there was, or maybe not, his shell.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>Bertholdt was right. The eastern district slept soundly with hops and malt. Torn ribbons, pennants and ropes separating the stalls were lying around. The fruit skins dried in the summer air, the scattered grains that fell into the edges of the cobblestones hid from the beaks of the voracious ravens. Were it not for the excruciating exhaustion of both of them, Reiner would have persuaded Bertholdt to take a walk. He would have asked if everything was alright, he would have apologized. He would have hugged him in a dark alley. However, they had to sleep off the trip quickly, so he only declared that he would clean the maneuvering equipment, now unpleasantly scratching with sand.</p><p>Bertholdt agreed and said he would volunteer as a peeler because he needed something from the kitchen.</p><p>They flew on in mutual silence.</p><p>Clothes, not so long ago tightly fitting Bertholdt’s shapely body, hung dolefully from him, flapping in the wind.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>All the guards from the Stationary Regiment were snoring in a drunken manner. No surprise. The guys in the room were snoring too, but a little quieter. Only Armin was awake. He was reading in bed, illuminating the pages of the book with a candle dripping onto the stand. Frightened by the unexpected entry of Reiner and Bertholdt, he unfortunately dropped the source of the light, which immediately went out. Fortunately, hot wax did not flood the thick volume in a hardcover. Instead, it burned Eren, who had been dozing so far with his mouth open full of saliva, which, while dripping, had already formed a large stain on the pillow.</p><p>‘Fu—mhm!’ Before he, brutally awake, shouted to make everyone in the barracks jump to their feet, his friend closed his mouth with a hand.</p><p>‘What are you guys doing? Where are you coming from at this time?’ Armin asked in an intense whisper.</p><p>‘From paradise,’ Reiner chuckled as he climbed onto the bunk with his companion. The window was shuttered, so the moonlight could not reveal the marks on their faces. ‘I’ll tell you at breakfast.’</p><p>‘Dinner,’ Bertholdt muttered.</p><p>‘Okay, dinner,’ Reiner corrected. ‘Now sleep, night owl. And before that, better calm down that screaming moron next to you. Good night.’</p><p>If it is true that problems should be slept on, then Bertholdt should be accompanied that night by the supper-and-horse girl, and Reiner by the dead turtle. Meanwhile, they both reached out to each other, quietly, with a certain amount of uncertainty, but unanimously and instinctively. They apologized wordlessly with a patient touch, understanding grunts, gentle intimacy. They fell asleep looking for a cradle and a shield in each other’s embraces.</p><p>❧❧❧</p><p>‘We just didn’t run into each other in the crowd… But trust us, we had fun like everyone else, if not better.’</p><p>The cadets in the canteen ate a little less tired and more content than might have been expected. All because of the instructor who came in as a substitute for Shadis, who was <em>absent for health reasons</em>. It was a considerable understatement, as the entire corps found it out thanks to Eren and his neat fifteen-syllable remark: “Everyone has seen him blind drunk with a crew from Survey Corps.” The boy could not care less about the penal duty assigned for it, fully devoting himself to eating potatoes with butter.</p><p>‘Lainah, gif me sum moar.’</p><p>‘Got it.’ The summoned companion at the table once again took the grinder Bertholdt had snatched from the kitchen while peeling the potatoes, and sprinkled Eren’s dinner lavishly with freshly ground salt.</p><p>‘It is so white… and pure!’ Armin did not hide his excitement. The rock salt obtained from mines, known to him, always had a more or less gray shade. ‘Did you really get salt from the brewhouse behind the Shina at the fair?’</p><p>‘Sometimes you just need to ask about the goods from under the counter.’</p><p>‘It must have been awfully expensive… Even ordinary salt is quite a luxury.’</p><p>‘With Bertholdt’s smile, you could buy the whole world,’ Reiner laughed. He poked cheekily at his companion sitting next to him, then also seasoned Armin’s potatoes with a generous pinch of white crystals. ‘Enjoy your meal,’ he said courteously, then added in a conspiratorial whisper, ‘We pissed in this water.’</p><p>Bertholdt, who had been eating in silence so far, burst out with a short, but loud and sincere laugh. This time this rare phenomenon did not interest the whole room, too busy sharing experiences and stories from the festival. But it certainly caught the attention of Annie, who from the next table looked at the boy a little less indifferently than usual. Her companion, Sasha, in the other hand, glared from the emptied plate and grumpily bit into a dry bun.</p><p>When Bertholdt finished staring at Annie with goo-goo eyes and turned his head, he saw Reiner’s plate pushed towards him. The whole portion of potatoes glistened with golden fat and flecks of sea salt. A dried rosemary sprig was laying on the side.</p><p>‘Eat my portion, Bertholdt. You need a lot of strength.’</p><p>He looked at Reiner beaming. A smile lifted his emaciated cheeks.</p><p>During the after-dinner training, they only practiced with each other. They desperately needed each other’s presence. Maybe that was why they forgot about the burn that had disappeared from Eren’s leg that evening, leaving no scar at all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow! Translating this chapter was quite a challange. It is much, much longer than the first one. Also more complicated vocabulary, grammar, and syntax didn't make it easier. But I really hope I managed to make my writing readable for you.<br/>If you are wondering what is this whole 'ain’t no bunkers here’ about, it's a reference to 2000's Polish movie „Chłopaki nie płaczą” ("Boys don't cry"). It has a scene where few guys go on a ride to find and save their friend who got accidentally involved in some mafia conflict. After lots of adventures (during which dudes were stoned af), although the boys were heading central Poland (and looking for post-German bunkers), at the end they come to the seaside. As one of them says, there ain't no bunkers. But it’s fucking awesome anyway. I decided to explain it here because I find it kind of lost-in-translation joke. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.<br/>I love all your feedback, kudos and comment as well! Sorry for making you wait so long, but I wish you will be satisfied with what I consider the main dish of this story. Enjoy your meal.<br/>They pissed in this water. (´艸`)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The note at the beginning is my remake of a polish sentimental military song from the time of the Great War. The original lyrics are about a young man who was spurned by a girl, so he decides to enlist in the cavalry. This song is really popular in my country, it is sung annually during celebrations of the National Independence Day, and I thought… Why can't we have a version with a man fallen for his army buddy?</p><p>English is not my mother tongue, so any advices would be greatly appreciated.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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